


In Angry Words

by everythingmurky



Series: These Dangerous Extra Thoughts [3]
Category: Broadchurch
Genre: F/M, Father-Daughter Relationship, Introspection, Pre-Relationship, Season/Series 03, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-20 00:06:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10650897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everythingmurky/pseuds/everythingmurky
Summary: Hardy finds himself admiring someone more and coming into more of his own as a father.(follows the other two stories with these sorts of thoughts from season three.)





	In Angry Words

**Author's Note:**

> I think there may be another fic that uses the "I'm too nice" line as that was a wonderful one, with perfect delivery and reaction, but this one tied into the others and kind of rounds things out a bit.

* * *

If he wasn't in love with Miller before that bollocking she gave Hartford, he probably would have been after, Hardy mused grimly.

(He wanted to deny that first bit, but he was well past the point where he could.)

He'd done his own yelling, and he was still angry, still furious, afraid they were on the precipice of another Joe Miller, someone who would get away at trial, and he couldn't let that happen again. Joe had only harmed one child, but he'd destroyed this community, devastated his own family and the Latimer's. This rapist had terrorized at least three women, if not more, and Hardy was not about to let them go free because of a green junior who thought she could break the rules.

He could hear the words about the poisoned tree, he could drown under Sandbrook and knowing that Joe Miller walked free, and he would not have it. He'd find something, anything, that had nothing to do with that idiot to get the rapist and stop him.

(He was a little afraid he'd do it with his bare hands, especially if that was at all connected to what happened to Daisy. He hoped not, and he was trying not to think about it because his daughter being a target of this man paralyzed him and left him useless, and he could not afford that.)

He tried to focus on what Miller was saying. That was a mistake. He wanted to smile or congratulate her, maybe even hug her, and that he could not do.

* * *

He was on the beach, trying to fix things with his daughter, convince her to give Broadchurch more of a chance. And there she was, Hartford, coming along to muck it up just as she had his case, and the parallels with his past failures were getting stronger and that much worse.

He was losing Daisy, even if she'd agreed to take the night to think about things.

He did what he always did, he threw himself back into the case.

If Miller noticed, she said nothing. He didn't know if that was good or bad. He'd lost track of where the line was and where it should be, since he was so far past it now he could barely see it.

* * *

She came to his house in the morning, and he found traitorous thoughts of what it might be like to wake up to her in other ways creeping in as he tried to get ready.

Those vanished when she asked him about Daisy's luggage, and he was back to the safe ground, almost, though he knew he couldn't do what Miller suggested. He let Daisy have her way in most things. It was how it worked. He wanted to do right by her, and forcing her to stay wasn't right.

(Even if he still thought it was.)

* * *

Miller stole his toast, and he griped at her, though he thought he was more upset that she wanted to pursue another angle instead of being with him interrogation—and that was not a good sign, either.

(The way he depended on her was... unsettling. A habit he should have broken long ago, but couldn't.)

* * *

All of his anger and frustration came out against the boys who'd spread that picture of Daisy around. He'd threatened them without a bit of regret, not caring a whit about his job, only about his daughter. He was fighting to keep her, and he'd be damned if he half-arsed that. He wouldn't.

He was making sure she stayed and got the right second (third) chance she deserved.

(Besides, if she left, he couldn't follow. He needed Miller too damned much, and he had to make the choice that kept them all in the same place.)

He enjoyed their looks of fear, the loss of their cocky bravado, and he thought he'd succeeded in making sure they'd think twice about doing anything to Daisy again. He wasn't sure, but he was going to keep an eye on them, just like he promised.

He thought a few visits to the school were the least he could do.

* * *

He told Miller he was too nice. She didn't believe him, but he knew he was.

(This thing he did, pretending he didn't feel more, that was him being nice to both of them. She didn't have to reject him, and he didn't have to face it. He was sparing them both.)

He wasn't being nice any longer.

(Except in that one way. He had to, or he'd lose everything.)


End file.
